


The Early Days

by Strength_in_pain



Series: John and his boys [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby Sam, Gen, POV John Winchester, Tired John Winchester, Weechesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, baby sammy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:28:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strength_in_pain/pseuds/Strength_in_pain
Summary: They were a small family now. A broken family. Sammy was the only one who escaped the horrors of that night because he was too young to remember any of it. But Dean... Dean remembered.





	The Early Days

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry guys, I don’t think this is my best. I was having some trouble finding time this week, so I just wrote something really quickly. It’s kind of a filler chapter that just shows how upset John was after the fire. 
> 
> I have also started writing the Flagstaff story, but i’m struggling slightly with some writers block. Hopefully i’ll be able to get it together within a week or so:)

> **Knights Inn, Ottawa, Kansas. September 20th, 1984. Dean 5 and Sam 1.**

 

John opens his eyes to the dimly lit room, though it is daytime, no-one has opened the thick drapes. Usually the maid, Kelly Moore, opened them. She must have noticed the impressive display of beer bottles all over John’s bed and decided he needed his sleep. 

 

John wrapped himself in the duvet while riding out waves of nausea that added to his misery. His broad, tanned chest, and muscular arms felt sore and achy like he went through a shredder. Maybe he got in a bar fight last night? John couldn’t remember. His brain felt like it would swell beyond the capacity of his skull and now his dehydration was too obvious to ignore. Again his stomach lurched and gurgled. Perhaps some painkillers would help too.

 

John swung his bare feet to the carpet, swaying as he stood. The room swirled before becoming stationary again and he used the bedstead to push himself towards the door. It was hard to walk with a blanket around himself, but he was stark naked underneath and he didn’t want either of his two sons to see. Likewise, Kelly could walk in any second. 

 

John saw the clock and realized it was 10:30 in the morning. The second thing he realized was that his one-year-old baby was crying. Groaning, John waddled into the cheap motel living room space where a queen size bed was place. John had slept in single room with a king sized bed. He glanced at the couch to notice it was empty. His oldest son, Dean, was no where to be seen. 

 

His baby laid on the queen sized bed, directly in the center surrounded by pillows. It was John’s own way of creating a crib since Sammy’s real crib burned in the fire, along with everything else John loved, Including his wife. 

 

John squeezed his eyes shut, drops of water leaking out like a broken faucet. Every time he shut his eyes, he could still see her body burning on that ceiling. He could feel the heat. Her eyes...the terror...the pain she must have felt. John slumped over the bed watching his baby cry. Sometimes it felt like baby Sam was crying for John’s grief, for all the pain he had endured. But John knew better. The baby simply wanted to be fed or changed or maybe even loved.

 

“Hey there, Sammy.” He said softly. He lifted the squirming mess of chubby legs and arms and placed Sam on his lap. John reached over to the far right to grab a toy elephant. It had the desired effect because his baby stopped crying. Sammy bit the elephants ear, giggling when his Daddy made the elephant talk. 

 

Soon, John stood up, with Sam wrapped in his arms and he wondered over to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of milk. 

 

Kelly had been wonderful enough to buy him some more formula. He was truly lucky to have found such a wonderful woman. Kelly worked as a maid for the Knights Inn, and when she met John, it was a week after the fire, she instantly felt badly for him. Since then, she has given him free breakfast, free formula for Sammy and she even convinced him to send Dean to kindergarten. 

 

_Kindergarten! That’s where Dean was._ John smiled, knowing Kelly probably dropped him off after she fed him a nice large breakfast. 

 

He plopped himself down on the couch, while he laid Sam’s head in the crook of his elbow. Then he fed his Sammy his bottle. 

 

"There you go baby" John said as he removed the now empty bottle from his mouth. He put it beside him and raised his thumb to clean the hazel-eyed boy’s lips, then wiping it on his duvet. Just as he was going to stand up, Sam moved in his lap , crawling across him, plopping on top of him. John shifts his son to the sofa, then stands. 

 

"Ummgh! Agayha!” He whined, clinging to the back of John’s arm. 

 

"Hey hey, its okay Sammy. I’m just going to get dressed and then I’ll come back yeah?" He hushed the boy, a hand going to his brown hair, pushing it to the side. 

 

The baby gurgled, watching with curious eyes as John disappeared into the other bedroom. 

 

Sam looked down at the floor. It was a long way away from where he sat. The couch was so high! But Sam had to follow Daddy. So he did what any brave baby would do. He climbed off the couch. 

 

“Sammy?” John called out. He had re-entered the living room to see Sam not on the couch. 

 

“Agaha.” The baby called from below John’s feet. “Pwawy.” 

 

“How did you get off the couch?” John asked, lifting his child into his arms. Sam started sucking on John’s shirt in response. Particularly the shoulder of his shirt. 

 

“Hey, hey.” John pulled Sam away from his shirt. “Don’t get Daddy all slobbery. Have your binki” 

 

John dug around in his baby bag for a pacifier. He found a blue one and stuck it between Sam’s lips. John noticed Sam didn’t need a change, so he figured Kelly already changed him. 

 

The baby tried to speak again. This time John chuckled. 

 

“What? What do you want baby? You wanna play?” 

 

He put Sam on the floor and watched as his baby crawled over to his small collection of superhero toys. They were larger action figures for Dean, but Sam liked play with them too. John was afraid Sammy would choke on them, so he made sure Dean kept them out of reach when John wasn’t around. But since the toys were on the floor, apparently Dean hasn’t been following that rule. John will have to have a few stern words with him. Sammy had picked up the joker toy and handed it to John, then he picked up the Superman toy. 

 

“Wait. Shouldn’t you be Batman?” John asked. “He’s the one that fights the joker.”

 

“Dee!” Sam squealed, when grabbing the Batman toy. 

 

John nodded slowly, “I see. But Dean isn’t here right now. So you could be Batman if you want.”

 

Sammy happily played with the superhero toy, completely ignoring John. 

 

“Ok then. The Joker and Superman it is.” John said with a laugh. 

 

They played with the action figures for a long time. Making the Joker fly from on top of the bed into the tower of blocks that Sam and John had built. 

 

Then, Kelly walked in a few minutes later, interrupting the game.

 

John stood up, leaving Sammy to play on the floor by himself. Hey greeted Kelly with a warm smile and offered her a piece of toast.

 

“I’ve already eaten. Thanks though.” She said. “Mike called the front desk. He wants to talk about the shapeshifter case.”

 

Rubbing his growing beard, John shook his head wearily. “I barely got out of bed this morning. I don’t feel like doing anything, much less a case.” 

 

“I could watch the boys for you, If you went somewhere with Mike...”

 

“Thanks Kelly, But that won’t be necessary.”

 

“Mike is good people. He can show you the hunting world. He’s buddies with other hunters and Jim Murphy.” Kelly said. 

 

“If Mike is your brother, than I’m sure he’s good people. But I’m not ready to meet any other hunters. I don’t want to do anything.”

 

“Don’t you want to find Mary’s killer.”

 

Just like that, John’s eyes grew dark and hooded. “Don’t say her name.” He growled. 

Realizing she went too far, Kelly apologized and excused herself from the room. 

 

Standing alone in the cheap motel room, John noticed Sam out of the corner of his eye. The baby was crawling towards the electrical plugs. 

 

“Sam!” In one quick motion, John scooped his tiny baby into his arms. The kid squirmed in his arms, trying to go back to his exploration. 

 

“Stay on the rug.” John warned, putting Sam back next to his toys. He watched him closely. Sammy was all he had left. Him and Dean. His two sons were his only family. They were a small family now. A broken family. Sammy was the only one who escaped the horrors of that night because he was too young to remember any of it. But Dean... Dean remembered.

 

It was a miracle the boy let John take him to kindergarten. After the fire, Dean stayed close to John and Sammy. He would cling to John’s side as if he were going to leave just like his Mommy did. Most nights, Dean would be sleeping on the bed, next to Sammy, as if he were trying to protect his baby brother from whatever was really out there in the dark. 

 

And he barely said a word the first few months after Mary’s death. He wouldn’t play or watch T.V. or even draw. All he did was sit next to John or Sammy and stare at the ceiling. 

 

His son’s silence disturbed John greatly. It was like he lost his wife and his boy. He missed Dean’s voice so much to the point where he almost shook the kid’s shoulders  until he spoke. But John didn’t do that. Instead, he swallowed more beers and slept in longer. In the middle of the night he would hear Dean’s cries. That was even worse than his silence. Especially when Dean called out for his ‘mommy.’ When that happened, John took sleeping pills to pass out. It hurt too much to hear. 

 

Then, one morning, at 7am, Dean tugged at his father’s sleeve. He tugged and tugged until John opened his sleepy eyes. “What is it buddy?” Dean took John’s hand and pulled him over to the bed to where Sammy was laying. “What’s wrong?” 

 

John felt the baby’s forehead, deeply worried about a fever, but he relaxed when the baby’s skin felt cool. 

 

“I don’t understand, Dean? What is it.” 

 

Dean pointed to Sammy again. The baby was cooing, reaching his tiny hands up towards John. Giving in, John lifted Sam up into his arms, kissing his cheek. 

 

“What’s up Sammy? Can you tell me what it is you’re big brother is trying to tell me? What is Dean trying to say?” 

 

“Dean.” 

 

John’s mouth dropped open. Sammy said his first word! A big wide smile crossed his face, as he threw Sammy up in the air, then back down again, eliciting squeals of glee from the baby. 

 

“Good job.” John praised. “Daddy is proud of you.” 

 

John looked over at Dean. He was beaming. “Is this what you were trying to tell me, Ace?”

 

Dean nodded. Then, very meekly, he whispered, “Yes.” 

 

John’s heart had burst open with joy. Both his kids had accomplished something great. He pulled Dean in for a much needed hug. “That’s my boy.” John said, kissing his head. “I’ve missed your voice, Deano. I missed your voice so much.” 

 

Dean was crying into John’s chest. His face pressed against John’s heart. He sobbed out in misery, horsely as if he were choking down razors. His pent up feelings about the loss of his mom was finally being released. John was crying too. It was the first and the last time he would ever cry in front of his son’s. But he was so overwhelmed with emotion he couldn’t help but cry. 

 

His mind snapped back to the present as Sam wondered off of the rug towards the electrical sockets. Sighing, John picked him up and put him on the bed. 

 

“I told you no leaving the rug.” John said. “Now you can’t play with your blocks anymore.”

 

Sam screamed. His small arms and legs went flying in all different directions as he threw another tantrum. John ignored it. He was pretty good at ignoring tantrums from both his children. Although, Dean rarely threw any. Ever since Mary died, Dean has done exactly what he was told. John never understood why, but it’s as if, Dean blames himself for his mother’s death. If he was a better son, than maybe Mommy wouldn’t have left. John told him none of this was his fault. In fact, he told Dean exactly who’s fault it was: the supernatural. Some evil son of a bitch killed your mother. Now, we’re going to hunt it down and kill it. Until then, we can never go home. 

 

John heard Sammy cry. Not the ‘I’m-throwing-a-tantrum-cry, but a real cry. He walked over to see what was wrong. 

 

Sammy whimpered, looking up at John with big watery, hazel-green eyes. John lifted him up, carefully and he realized the problem: a wet diaper. As John carried him to the bathroom, he whipped out the baby bag, and found the diapers, the wipes and the baby powder. 

 

Sam was crying harder now, trying to roll over on his belly to avoid laying on his bottom. And John felt like the biggest  deadbeat father to ever exist. 

 

In the past, John couldn’t pull himself out of bed no matter how loud his seven-month  baby screamed. He couldn’t get to his feet. All he did was fall back to sleep with a bottle of brandy in bed with him. Thanks to John’s failure to get up, Sam was left in a soaked diaper for half the day, until Kelly came in to check on him. This pattern went on and on for months which led to Sammy getting a nasty rash. 

 

Now anytime Sam gets a wet diaper the rash acts up. 

 

“Okay baby, come on, let's change you yeah?" John rolled Sam as carefully as possible, immediately lifting his chubby legs. Sam was being good thank God. 

John removed the diaper slowly. He quickly discarded it in the tiny waste basket. John used a wet wipe to clean him up. Once he was done, John washed his hands, then pulled out a pacifier to calm Sam’s cries. 

"You are being a good boy,” He cooed while gently tapping the boy's bottom with the wipe. "I'll put a reall nice cream okay?" John informed before turning Sam around, treating the area carefully. Then he proceeded to put Sam in a fresh diaper and a puppy-dog onesie. 

"All done baby, you were so good,” John wiped the last tears from Sam’s face "Do you want a bottle, Sammy?” 

The baby nodded, silently sucking on his pacifier. John carried Sam to the living room, putting some formula in a bottle. 

“Here you go.” John said. He cradled the boy in his arms and fed him the bottle. Sam’s cries faded away as he slurped down the milk.

The motel door opened a few minutes later, Kelly was standing with Dean by her side.

“Hey Deano!” John smiled. 

“Daddy!” Dean ran as fast as he could, leaping on the couch to wrap his arms around John’s neck. “You’re awake!” 

John chuckled nervously, swallowing down guilt. “Yeah, I’m awake, champ. How was school.” 

Dean shrugged, eyes losing that spark. “Good.” He whispered. 

“Really?” John asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because you look kinda sad.”

Kelly walked over, handing Dean a sippy cup full of chocolate milk. “No one wants to sit with him at snack time. And he didn’t want to participate in show-and-tell.” 

“I don’t like school anymore.” Dean said. “Everyone is mean.”

“Aw Ace. Don’t worry, you won’t be in town long. We’ll go somewhere else and find a new school with better people.” 

Dean smiled a toothy grin. “Thanks Daddy.” His eyes lit up again, “ooo! I made you something.” He took his backpack off and pulled out a piece of paper. 

It was a picture of someone with a cape on. At the top is said. My hero is.... and Dean had written, with his sloppy handwriting, the words ‘my Daddy.’ 

“Thank you.” John swallowed a lump in his throat. 

It wasn’t going to be easy, but John was going to find the thing that killed his boy’s mother and he was going to destroy it. No other family will ever go through the same pain he and his kids are going through. Not ever. 


End file.
